


As Long As We're Together

by ChocoholicFangirl



Series: Daisuga Week 2015 [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Character Death, M/M, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 13:07:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5335226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoholicFangirl/pseuds/ChocoholicFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Daisuga Week 2015</p><p><b>Day 3</b>: Necessity <s>or Insecurities</s></p><p>
  <i>Daichi leaned against Suga, trying to find some solid ground to stand on as Tsukishima and Shimizu and Yachi used the last of their phones’ batteries to collect as much information about this zombie virus outbreak as they can. “Any bite wound can infect an individual.” “Miyagi has been overrun, virus moving towards Tokyo.” “Destroy the brain to stop the zombie from reviving.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“We’re going to be okay,” he repeated under his breath. “We’re together. We’re safe. We’re going to be okay.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Suga squeezed his hand.</i>
</p><p>(Alternate Title: I'm Sorry)</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Long As We're Together

**Author's Note:**

> Wow ha ha how did I manage to twist the prompt into something like this (and then twist Daisuga into something more like "Daichi's life sucks")
> 
> Major warning for character death. There's also some violence, but I don't think it's graphic? I don't know, someone else read this and tell me, all my friends are asleep (as they should be) so I can't harass them about this AU
> 
> Shoutout to [Lomeki](http://www.lomeki.tumblr.com) for bearing with me and helping me plan this out, where would I be without you

Daichi hadn’t actually slept in weeks.

In fact, he felt like he’d been awake since that first day, when Takeda-sensei left for an emergency staff meeting. Ukai-san told them to continue practice on their own, then ran down to his store to check the news.

Takeda-sensei never came back. Daichi didn’t particularly want to think about why, but he did anyway, constantly. He wondered if the teachers had been attacked before someone could come back and warn them. He wondered if they’d evacuated without announcing the crisis to the students. He wondered which would be the better option, and he hated himself for wondering.

Ukai-san did come back. By then, only Yamaguchi was still diligently practicing serves; everyone else was on their phones, at the door, trying to get any news they could. Tanaka’s excited shout at seeing Ukai-san trailed off as he—and everyone else—soon realized that he was covered in blood, stumbling, gripping his shoulder.

Daichi had no idea what was going on; it was pure instinct (and the frantic YouTube videos Ennoshita had been watching on Ukai-san’s iPad, and the texts Hinata had been getting from the Date Kou giant and the Nekoma setter, and the confused, contradictory news articles Shimizu had been reading out loud as her voice grew weaker) that saved their lives. He watched Ukai-san staggering closer, saw his lips shaping words: _help me_ or _they’re coming_ or maybe nothing, maybe he was already gone, and he said, “Tanaka, close the door.”

Tanaka didn’t seem to register his words. “Daichi-san—”

Daichi reached out and yanked Tanaka back inside as Suga—always the first to comprehend the situation, always capable of hearing what Daichi didn’t say—leapt forward and slammed the door shut.

There was resounding silence in the gym.

“Go get chairs—tables—anything to barricade the door,” Daichi said; it seemed to him that his voice was coming from far away. “Now!”

He had to do it. He repeated this to himself that day, while the team sat clustered together listening to Ukai’s cries of pain as whoever was outside—whatever was chasing him—caught up, while Asahi gripped Daichi and Nishinoya’s arms until they were going to snap and Hinata had to clamp his hand over his mouth to stop his teeth from chattering and Yachi burying her face in Shimizu’s shoulder, and he repeated it to himself day after day after day and the look on Ukai-san’s face would not leave him.

 

* * *

 

Daichi didn't know whether it was a blessing or a curse that they didn’t hear anything until the chaos was well underway, that the team was isolated in the gym until the worst seemed to have passed. They tried and tried to contact their families, their friends, the police, anyone. Only about a-third of the calls went through; none of them led to any solution, any course of action they could take other than continue sitting where they were. Daichi leaned against Suga, trying to find some solid ground to stand on as Tsukishima and Shimizu and Yachi used the last of their phones’ batteries to collect as much information about this zombie virus outbreak as they can. “Any bite wound can infect an individual.” “Miyagi has been overrun, virus moving towards Tokyo.” “Destroy the brain to stop the zombie from reviving.”

“We’re going to be okay,” he repeated under his breath. “We’re together. We’re safe. We’re going to be okay.”

Suga squeezed his hand.

They left the gym when they ran out of water, skirting around the dried blood at the doors, scavenging around the school for food and weapons (knives, mops, crowbars, baseball bats). It seemed as though the entire world had gone silent, had reduced to Daichi, Suga, the team and no one else. Where were the other students who must have stayed after school for club activities? Were they hiding? Were they dead? Where were their parents, their friends, any other people? Where were they supposed to go? Would it make any difference?

“Let’s move south,” Nishinoya said, bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet. “Last time we checked, it sounded like they were okay.”

“That’s where the zombies are headed,” Kinoshita pointed out. His voice sounded dazed.

“That’s where _other people_ are,” Nishinoya shot back. “We can’t just _sit here_ waiting for someone to come find us, we can’t just—”

Daichi interrupted him. “It’s too dangerous. There’s no telling what might be happening there, but here we know is safe. Kind of. We’ll look for our families here.”

It might have been his imagination, but Tsukishima’s mouth seemed to go flat.

 

* * *

 

His decision had sounded good, until their first confrontation with zombies a week later, near Yachi’s apartment. It had been so quiet—they hadn’t seen any other signs of life—and Daichi was ashamed to admit that he had been entirely caught off guard by the scream.

He was also ashamed to admit that in that moment, his mind blanked, and all he could think about was Suga.

But of course, Suga was right here next to him, searching for anything they could use in Yachi’s cabinets. Suga was fine. That scream belonged to Yamaguchi.

He knew, rationally, that there was nothing he could have done, that that split second of distraction had made no difference—Yamaguchi had been dragged down the stairs, it took only one glance to realize that there were at least ten or fifteen zombies coming up the stairs. All he could do was help Tanaka pull Tsukishima back and shout at everyone to run the other way.

“Yamaguchi!” Tsukishima shouted, elbowing Daichi in the ribs; Daichi gritted his teeth and shoved Tsukishima back down the hallway. “ _Tadashi!_ ”

They managed to hold on to him until they had escaped the building through another set of stairs. “I’m sorry, Tsukishima,” Suga said, his voice gentle. Tsukishima’s entire being seemed to have gone limp. “We had to. You know that, right? You would’ve been dead, too.”

And Daichi should have seen this coming, should have known that he would wake up to find Tsukishima missing. He was always a step behind, and because of that he had already lost two teammates.

“We have to go look for him!” Nishinoya burst out. “We can’t just leave him behind!”

“We can’t stay here,” Daichi snarled; he didn’t realize how loud he had been until Nishinoya and Ennoshita flinched back. _Calm down_. _Calm down_. _Everything's going to be okay_. “We’re not going to wait for him. It was his decision to leave,” he said when he was sure he could speak normally. He glanced Suga almost without thinking, for reassurance or for sympathy, he was no longer sure; but Suga’s face was blank, and he felt his heart clench. “We’re going to Kageyama’s house next. Let’s move.”

 

* * *

 

Daichi was aware that his plan was not working out for anyone. Sometimes they would find blood in their homes; sometimes they would find nothing. At this point he wasn’t sure which was worse.

And now they were climbing uphill towards Hinata’s house, the last concrete destination they had before being lost and confused again. And that was when Kageyama squinted and leaned forward. “Hinata,” he said, his voice low. “Is that—”

Before he could even finish his question, Hinata had shot forward, almost smacking Kageyama with his baseball bat. “Natsu!” he shouted. “Oh thank God, you’re okay!”

The girl looked like she was in first or second grade; she had Hinata’s orange hair, dirty and matted with blood, and Daichi realized with alarm that she was definitely not _okay_.

Suga seemed to realize the same thing, because he called, “Hinata, wait—”

Hinata knelt down in front of the girl, took in her bloody clothes and vacant eyes, held out his hands. “Natsu, what’s wrong? It’s me, Na—”

Daichi grabbed Hinata just as the girl opened her mouth and went for Hinata’s throat.

“Natsu?!” Hinata squeaked as Daichi threw him back, out of the way. “What are you doing?” He suddenly went very still, eyes wide. “Daichi-san, what are you doing?”

Daichi looked down at the girl. He tried to focus on the blood around her mouth, the way her hands were reaching for him now, but all he could see was wide brown eyes.

“Daichi!” Suga yelped just as Natsu lunged with unexpected speed.

Daichi kicked, knocked her aside, but she just jumped back up and leapt for him again. He vaguely registered Hinata shouting behind him.

“No! No! That’s my sister! That’s—”

 _Destroy the brain to stop the zombie from reviving_. _I’m sorry_. _I’m sorry_. _I’m sorry_. Daichi brought Hinata’s bat down on top of her so hard that her skull bounced off the road, smashed open like an egg.

Hinata’s words turned into a wail. Daichi scrambled back, even though the girl had already stopped moving, and reached for Suga. Their fingers met halfway, briefly, before Suga dropped his hand to hold Hinata.

 _I had to do it_ , Daichi wanted to say. _I had to_. _I’m sorry_.

What actually came out was, “We need to find shelter.”

 

* * *

 

They went for days without meeting any zombies. The girl seemed to have been an anomaly, because most zombies traveled in huge packs. Or, at least, that was how it seemed to Daichi, because when they did run into zombies, there were eleven or twelve of them all at once.

“So what now?” Nishinoya asked, but he couldn’t hide the pain in his voice.

It was Hinata. He hadn’t spoken since Daichi killed the girl, and everyone—even Kageyama—especially Kageyama—had been treating him as though he was made of glass, as though he was so fragile that one loud word would shatter him. And, well, if that word happened to be Ennoshita shouting at everyone to run—

Long story short, Hinata fell, Kageyama and Nishinoya ran back to haul him up, and when one of the zombies almost caught up Nishinoya somehow found it a good idea to block its bite with his arm.

They did all make it away, Kageyama and Tanaka pulling Hinata between them, Asahi carrying Nishinoya, Daichi and Ennoshita doing their best to fend off the zombies with a shovel and a broom. And now, here they were: Tanaka, Asahi, Suga, Ennoshita, and Daichi sitting in a circle around Nishinoya, a little ways away from where the others were sleeping, all trying and failing to say what everyone must have been thinking.

“We can try to find a hospital,” Asahi blurted out. He couldn’t seem to bear to look at Nishinoya, to look at the blood stark against the pale skin, the sloppy bandages and Nishinoya’s tense jaw and labored breathing. “W-we can try to disinfect it, try to—”

“You know what we have to do,” Daichi said, suddenly so, so tired. “He’s infected.”

Everyone was silent. Nishinoya’s arm twitched, and his face scrunched up. Suga’s eyes were filled with tears.

“Let’s just get it over with,” Nishinoya said. “Just—Daichi-san, do it w-where Hinata can’t see, okay?”

He said Hinata, but his eyes flicked to Asahi.

“Daichi,” Asahi pleaded.

Nishinoya blinked, and for a second his eyes went dark, his pupils wildly dilated, his fists clenched against his stomach. He arched off the ground, groaning, and Asahi reached out as though trying to soothe him.

Daichi caught Asahi’s hand. “All of you, get back to the others. I’ll take care of this.”

The words must have come from his throat, but he could not for the life of him imagine how he managed to say it.

 

* * *

 

“Daichi,” Suga whispered. “Are you awake?”

Daichi nodded. He was always awake; Nishinoya’s groans, Hinata’s wail, Yamaguchi’s screams, Ukai-san’s face, they all gathered like a snowball gaining mass and they would not let him sleep. “What is it?”

Suga moved close to Daichi, cupped his face in his warm, calloused palms. “Are you okay?”

Daichi found himself gripping Suga’s wrists, as though he’ll disappear if he let go. “I don’t know. I don’t know.” He let out a shaky exhale that sounded half like a sob, half like a crazed laugh. “How could I have—how could I—”

“Someone has to do what’s necessary,” Suga said, running his thumb over Daichi’s cheeks. “You’re keeping us safe and alive.”

“I have Yuu’s blood on my hands.” Daichi leaned against Suga’s chest. He realized, with some bewilderment, that he was shaking. “I—I’m never going to be able to look Asahi in the eyes again.”

Suga shushed him. “We’re going to be okay. We’re together. We’re safe.” He tilted Daichi’s face up, kissed him on the forehead. “We’re going to be okay.”

And Suga held him while he cried, wiped his tears away for him so that he wouldn’t leave dried blood on his face. Daichi looked over at his teammates’—his family’s—sleeping forms, looked at the protective way Tanaka and Kageyama curved around Hinata, the way Kinoshita and Narita’s arms were intertwined. Someone has to do what’s necessary. Daichi had to keep them safe.

Then he looked up at Suga, at his kind brown eyes and pale skin, and he realized with sudden clarity and a rush of guilt that necessity was relative. What would he do to protect Suga?

“Everything’s going to be okay,” Suga promised.

“As long as we’re together,” Daichi breathed.

 

* * *

 

For a moment, Daichi thought they had run into yet another group of zombies.

But then Seijou’s Number 4—Iwaizumi—pointed a gun at his face, and that didn’t seem particularly like something zombies would do.

“Oh, thank God,” Tanaka said, sagging with relief. “I was starting to think we were the only people still alive in Japan.”

Iwaizumi frowned at them. “Is that all of you?”

Daichi looked back. They were missing a few teammates, it was true, but that seemed like a strange thing for Iwaizumi to say. “Yes? Why?”

Slowly, Iwaizumi lowered his gun. “Nothing. I just—” His eyes slid away. “Nothing.”

At Suga’s suggestion, the two groups sat down to exchange information. Seijou had been hit by the zombies earlier; not a lot of their teammates had made it out alive. Iwaizumi did most of the talking, describing the routes they took and where they encountered zombies, but the pink-haired one, Hanamaki, occasionally chimed in with “Don’t bother going there, we took everything” and “That area smells terrible, avoid at all costs.” Kunimi spent the entire time with his head in Hanamaki’s lap.

“So it’s just the three of you?” Daichi asked.

Iwaizumi shook his head. “We have three other people back at the hospital; it’s our base, we’ve barricaded all the doors and windows. We’re just looking for more supplies.”

“And Oikawa-san?” Kageyama spoke suddenly. “He’s there?”

Iwaizumi said nothing, and Daichi noticed, suddenly, the tightness in his expression, the brittle set of his jaw, as though he was barely holding himself together. He wasn’t sure how he hadn’t recognized it before; it was a look he’d become very familiar with.

“Oikawa wasn’t at practice when it happened,” Hanamaki finally said. “He had an appointment—a check up for his knee. It wasn’t even supposed to take the entire afternoon. We came to the hospital to see if he was here, but—”

“But he wasn’t,” Iwaizumi finished roughly. “That’s all.”

Daichi wondered faintly if he would be able to say that if he didn’t know where Suga was, if he had to spend day after day wondering if he was alive, if he was dead, if he was something worse. He squeezed Suga’s hand.

 

* * *

 

“We’re leaving?” Tanaka whispered, incredulous, as Daichi pushed him towards the door. “We’re—why?”

Daichi shushed him, pointed for him to follow Suga, then turned to wake Kageyama up. He had everyone out the door and was returning to check for anything they might have left when Iwaizumi grabbed his arm.

“Where are you going?” Iwaizumi asked, calm, as though they were discussing the weather.

“We’re not going to stay here if you plan on keeping a zombie around,” Daichi snapped.

Iwaizumi’s jaw tightened. “He’s not—he’s not a _zombie_.”

“Not yet,” Daichi corrected, daring Iwaizumi to deny it.

When Iwaizumi had led them back to the Seijou group’s shelter, he had introduced them to Yahaba and Yuda, had said _Watari’s not feeling well, so he’s resting right now_. Daichi hadn’t thought anything of it—it was probably a miracle that, other than Hinata’s weakened state and Shimizu’s cold, their group had stayed mostly healthy.

Until later, at night, when he passed by a locked room on his way out for some air and heard the groaning, heard someone—Yahaba, he thought—talking softly, begging for Watari to drink some water, promising that everything’s going to be okay.

“We’re doing everything we can,” Iwaizumi insisted. “We have medical supplies—”

“You're high school students,” Daichi snapped. “There _is_ nothing you can do.”

Iwaizumi looked down. “We can’t lose him, too. We’ve already lost so much. Matsukawa, Kindaichi, Kyoutani—so many died just on the way to get here. And—” His voice cracked. “I can’t do it. He’s Watari. I _can’t_.”

Daichi thought of Nishinoya, of the way his hands shook when he lifted the shovel. Would it have been better this way, to exhaust every possibility at the risk of everyone’s lives? What if they could have saved Nishinoya?

He wondered what Asahi would say, when Daichi would inevitably have to explain why he had yanked everyone out of their beds.

“We need your help,” Iwaizumi said. “It’ll be easier to defend this place with more people. We have enough supplies for everyone. I promise he’s contained.”

“I’m sorry,” Daichi said, because he was.

 

* * *

 

It was karma, probably; retribution for what he did to Ukai, to Yamaguchi, to Hinata, to Nishinoya, to Iwaizumi. He’d done more than enough.

But actually, no, it wasn’t. It was far simpler.

_What would he do to protect Suga?_

“Daichi.” Suga was gasping, his fingers trembling as he held Daichi’s face. “Daichi, oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

Daichi looked up at Suga, felt Suga’s tears land on his face. He tried to ignore the burning in his thigh, but it wasn’t working all that well.

_What wouldn’t he do, would probably be the better question._

“Suga,” he managed to say. “Koushi.”

Suga cradled Daichi’s head. “I’m here, I’m right here. Everything’s going to be okay.”

They hadn’t even seen the zombies coming; it had been too long since the last time they saw one, and they’d let their guard down. And now here they were.

“Koushi, listen,” Daichi said. “You know what you have to do.”

“No.” Suga was crying. “Don’t talk. Don’t—save your strength, we can—”

Daichi bit the inside of his cheek, gathered enough strength to piece together a longer thought. “Koushi, look at me. Someone has to do what’s necessary. And—after this, you have to find Tanaka and do it again. Can you do that?”

Suga bit his lip so hard Daichi saw blood. Or maybe that was just the fact that he was now seeing red everywhere. “Daichi—”

Pain shot up his side, and Daichi felt his eyes water. There were so many things he had to say, but he could only force one or two through his throat. “Koushi.”

“Yeah?” Suga whispered, as though he no longer had enough strength to talk.

“I’m sorry,” Daichi said. “I’m sorry.”

Suga closed his eyes, and nodded.

**Author's Note:**

> Friend: What are you writing?
> 
> Me: Do you think Suga killing Daichi is worse than Daichi killing Suga?
> 
> Friend: What is _wrong_ with you
> 
> ~~Feel free to come[scream at me](http://www.chocoholicfangirl.tumblr.com) now~~
> 
> (As always, please let me know if I made any mistakes, typos, etc. Thank you for reading.) (Oh my God it's four in the morning.)


End file.
